Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat
by Undercover Fads
Summary: Harry moves away from the Dursley's when he gets fed up with Dumbledore, and opens a laundromat with Ron and Hermione. But an evil spirit lurks in the shadows, and there are two loud people on either side of the building who are sworn enemies. What kind of strange adventures await Harry and his friends? DISCONTINUED/UP FOR ADOPTION PM is interested.
1. Harry Gets Fed Up and Stuff

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters © J.K. Rowling.

Chapter One

Harry Get's Fed Up and Stuff

Harry Potter was lying face-down in his bed, trying to cope with the loss of his godfather, Sirius Black. It was about nine o'clock at the moment, but the Dursley's had shooed him upstairs as soon as he had finished making them supper.

He sighed into his pillow, feeling all miserable and dejected, and thought about the events from the year before.

Dementors, a hearing, Umbridge, more Umbridge, learning Occlumency (or at least trying to), being banned from Quidditch, the D.A., giants, centaurs, the ministry, Sirus's- Harry stopped himself and sighed again. Oh, and the prophecy. That damned prophecy. Dumbledore made it sound like Harry didn't have a choice in the matter.

Harry sat up, rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach. How dare he! How dare Dumbledore! Harry had as much right as the next man to do as he pleased (in other words, not very much, but let's just move on, hm?)! He wouldn't _die _if he refused to kill Voldemort.

Harry was now standing on his feet, storming towards his trunk. He flipped it open and pulled out a few pieces of parchment and a quill. He slammed the trunk (earning an outburst of "Be quiet up there, boy!" from his Uncle Vernon) and began to write.

_Hi, Ron._

_How are you? That's nice. I hope Percy isn't being TOO much of a prick. Anyway, I was thinking just now and decided I am fed up with Dumbledore._

_Can you get to Number Four by, like, eleven o'clock tonight? I need to speak with you, and letters aren't too trustworthy._

_Your friend, Harry_

Harry read the letter a few times before he was satisfied with it. He put it aside and began one for Hermione.

_Hey, Hermione._

_How have you been doing lately? Yes, cavities are quite disastrous. Anyway, I hope this isn't too random, but can you see if you can come to Number Four at about eleven o'clock tonight? I think Ron's coming, and it's very urgent._

_Hope you can make it, Harry_

Harry stuffed the letters in envelopes and tied them to Hedwig's ankle. He told Hedwig who they were for and sent his beloved owl on her way. With a smirk, Harry reclined on his bed, and hoped that Ron and Hermione would come.

He had a brilliant idea...

* * *

Ron did, indeed, make it to Number Four a few minutes before eleven. He gave Petunia quite a shock when the fireplace erupted with green flames and he stepped out.

Hermione also came. Her mum had driven her, wished her good-luck, and left. Harry had dashed downstairs and told his friends to talk to him in his room.

"Well?" demanded Hermione when Harry closed the door to his puny bedroom. "What did you drag us here for, Harry?"

"I'd kinda like to know that as well, mate," Ron added, looking at Harry with a confused expression. Harry eyed Ron's ridiculous orange sweater (that had the words "CHUDLEY CANONS" printed on the front in magenta) for a moment before answering.

"Well... I'm fed up with Dumbledore. He said that if I don't kill Voldemort, I'm gonna die, and then the world's gonna end and blah blah blah, but this is where I get fussy," Harry said. Hermione and Ron shared a look. It was never good when Harry got fussy.

"Dumbledore made it sound like I don't have a choice in the matter, and that kinda... ticked me off, and because of that..." He paused to be dramatic, "... I'm not going back to Hogwarts this year!" Hermione and Ron gasped.

"You... You _what?" _Hermione said disbelievingly. "But, Harry! Hogwarts is the only place you've ever felt at home!" Harry nodded.

"Yeah, but that's because the only other place I've ever been was _here. _Just imagine all the other places in the world where I could fit in! I could... I could open a laundromat!" Harry said. Hermione face-palmed. Ron opened his mouth to ask what a laundromat was, but Hermione spoke before him.

"Harry, why won't you go back to Hogwarts?" asked Hermione.

"I said I was fed up with Dumbledore," Harry said stubbornly, "so I'm going to do the exact opposite of what Dumbledore want's me to do!"

"Harry," started Hermione, but Ron was way ahead of her.

"It's brilliant, mate!" said Ron excitedly. "We could do all sorts of things! I'll bet Dad'll be all about me staying in the Muggle world! Who knows what things I'll be able to tell him about parking meters when I've been away from wizards for a few years?" Harry grinned.

"Yes. And maybe my relatives won't treat me so much like dirty dirt – maybe even _clean _dirt – once they find out I'm done with Hogwarts? It'll be fabulous!" Hermione groaned. Why were they getting so hyper over a laundromat? What could be so amazing about laundromats?

She stared at them, and a new argument came to mind. "Harry, what are you going to _call _the laundromat?" asked Hermione, trying to sound interested.

Harry blinked. "Isn't obvious? _Potter and Weasley's Laundromat._ We can add _Granger_ to it as well, if you decide to join us," Harry said.

"But, Harry," Hermione said, "won't Dumbledore be able to find you if you use those names?" Harry looked shocked.

"Merlin, you're right! I know, I'll just make up a fake name... How about... James Evans!" Harry said. Hermione's face reddened because of Harry's raw stupidity.

"_THAT WILL HAVE THE OPPOSITE EFFECT!" _she screamed at him.

"It's bloody brilliant, Harry!" Ron gasped.

"BE QUIET UP THERE!" screamed Vernon from the first floor.

"Okay," Hermione said, getting her frustration under control, "what about Ron's name? He can't just prance about calling himself _Weasley. _It's not exactly a common surname, even by magical standers."

"I know," said Ron, "which is why I'm calling myself Bilius Weezly. It's genius!" Hermione smacked his arm and he made a pathetic _ow _sound.

Hermione sighed and looked at her friends. They were far too excited about opening a laundromat. She groaned inwardly and said, "Fine. I'll help you. Just don't call it anything like _Potter and Weasley's Laundromat. _It sounds a bit too stupid for my liking..."


	2. A Shopping Spree

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters © J.K. Rowling

Chapter Two

A Shopping Spree

Convincing the Dursley's to let him move out was an easier task than turning his head left. All Harry had to do was go downstairs and ask Uncle Vernon if he could _pretty please with Chocolate Frogs on top _move out. His uncle had said yes in less than a heartbeat.

If only it had been so for Ron.

Convincing Mister and Missus Weasley to let Ron move into the Muggle world and start a business had been a red-faced, loud, tearful affair that took roughly three hours to complete. Finally, at four in the morning, Ron manged to convince his parents to let him move out, promising to come back to the Burrow for holidays, brithdays, and multiple random occasions that didn't hold any form of significance. Mister Weasley had opened up to the idea when Ron mentioned learning about rubber ducks and parking meters, but it took an extra hour and a half to finally convince Missus Weasley.

Hermione didn't even have to move out, because she had mentioned an empty building between a fast-food joint and a public gym that was for sale.

Harry and Ron met Hermione at the said building at noon the next day.

It was a two-story building with wide windows (that were in desperate need to a good scrubbing) and a glass door. There was a sign that still hung above the entrance, but it was too faded to read. The man who showed them around was short, tubby, and had a very amusing yellow handle-bar mustache. He insisted on them calling him _Barney._

"This here," he said, gesturing to a stained staircase that led to the second floor, "is made from real... concrete." His voice lost a lot of enthusiasm at the last word. "But anyway," Barney said, perking up, "I'm sure you fellas will like it anyway. Come on upstairs, kiddos." Ron, Hermione, and Harry shared a look, but shrugged and followed him upstairs.

Upstairs there was a well-spaced area with a fair-sized window, and to the left was a short hallway that had two doors on each side, which Harry suggested could be used as storage space and bedrooms. Ron eagerly agreed.

"Well, what do you guys think?" asked Barney. Hermione tilted her head and thought as she stared at a pee-stain in the corner of the hallway.

"Well, it'll be a nice place when we fix it up," said Harry, popping his head into one of the rooms and testing the light-switch. "How much does this place cost anyway?" asked Harry as he reentered the open area.

"Two thousand pounds, sir," said Barney. Harry let out a low whistle. "That's... pretty cheap for a place with such potential. Why hasn't anyone bought it yet? Do they not like it, or are they not willing to fix it up?" said Harry.

"It's not that people don't like the place," said Barney. "Nor is it because they're not willing to make the place work. It's because of... the fast-food joint and the gym. And the..." He muttered something that sounded like 'evil spirit'.

"What does that have to do with not buying this building?" asked Ron.

Barney sighed. "The owners of the gym and fast-food place are kind of... arch nemesis'. Judith Bellysmall owns the gym, and Julian Bellybig owns the fast-food place. They've hated each other since the seconds grade, I hear.

"Anyway, they have this awfully bad habit or climbing to the top of their buildings and shouting abuse at each other. They've been doing it for so long that the police don't even bother to make them shut up anymore, and nobody wants to put up with that kind of noise all day," said Barney.

Hermione said, "That's okay, Mister Barney. We can tolerate the noise. This place will be fabulous when we fix it up. We're taking it." Barney beamed at her.

"Brilliant!" the retailer said happily, obviously relieved to not have to sit around and show people the building anymore. He paused, and the smile slipped off his face. "Good luck to you, kids. I... I hope you manage to... You know. Stuff," he said, and gave them the keys and took Harry's money (he'd taken the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley earlier that day and exchanged Galleons for Muggle money) and wished the good-luck before heading off.

* * *

Hermione and Harry were looking at washing machines.

The store they were at was big and well-cleaned, and filled to the brim with household needs, perks, and appliances. They hadn't bothered looking at just which store they were at, and just walked around until they saw a store with a washing machine in the window.

"This one is nice, Harry. But, the red..." She shook her head at the red washing machine. Washing machines were meant to be WHITE. This one was not WHITE. It was RED.

"Excuse me!" called Harry over to a saleswoman. "Do you have this machine in anything other than red?" The saleswoman strode over to them. According to her badge, her name was Ellie.

She inspected the machine. "Afraid not, sir," she said. "But we're getting another shipment next Thursday. Can you wait till then?"

Harry nodded. "We can wait. Um, hey, we don't really have a car, and we're opening a laundromat so we need like, fifteen at least, so..."

"We can deliver it right to your door if you'd like, sir," Ellie said brightly, obviously excited about selling fifteen machines in one day.

"That would be wonderful," said Hermione.

After washing machines, Harry and Hermione blew money on soap, laundry baskets, a cash register, an alarm, paint, tiles, and cleaning equipment for the building.

Then, for actually living there, Harry bought beds, alarm clocks, nightstands, a couch, a coffee table, groceries, a toaster oven, a portable hotplate, a fridge/freezer, and a carpet.

When they were done at the store, Harry looked at the receipts and his stomach sunk.

"What's wrong?" asked Ron, poking his head out of his new room. Harry sighed and showed Ron the receipts.

"Bloody Hell," said Ron in awe, "that's expensive."

"Indeed it is, Ron," Harry said. After a moment, he shrugged and stuffed the receipts in his pocket. "But what the Hell? I'm filthy rich." Ron nodded in agreement, and went downstairs to help Hermione clean the first floor.

* * *

**A.N./ I'm sorry if this isn't very funny. I promise it'll pick up once their business opens.**

**WG out  
**


	3. Hermione Sees a Ghost or Something

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters © J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Three

Hermione Sees a Ghost or Something

The first day Harry lived in his new home was weird.

First of all, he had been woken up at six in the morning by a woman screaming. At first he panicked and thought that maybe someone was under attack, but then he remembered what Barney said about the fast-food owner and the gym owner.

What Judith Bellysmall was screaming sounded like, "USELESS FAT COW! YOU'RE BIGGER THAN THAN THE HOUSE YOU LIVE IN! HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY SKINNY WAIST! MY WAIST IS PERFECT!" Her screams were soon followed by Julian Bellybig's yells of, "SKINNY BITCH! I'M NOT _FAT, _I JUST HAVE MORE THAN TWO SQUARE INCHES OF MEAT ON MY BONES, UNLIKE _YOU, _YOU TOOTHPICK OF A WOMAN!"

After a while, Bellybig and Bellysmall shut up and resumed their daily routine (which involved MORE screaming) and Harry could walk out of his new bedroom without fearing either of them storming into his new home and screaming at him.

But, as it turned out, he DID have to fear them storming into his new home.

Judith Bellysmall stood in the hallway, her jet-black hair tied into a ponytail and her steel-gray eyes glaring at him and Ron. Judith Bellysmall was, indeed, very small, belly-wise. She was also remarkably buff, and quite tan.

"You, kid with the uncombed mop on his head that he calls hair," said Bellysmall said in a gravely voice, "you and ginger here-" Harry noticed that she had Ron in a headlock. "-just moved in, am I right?" Ron whimpered, and Bellysmall snapped at him to shut up.

"Yes..." Harry said slowly, raising and eyebrow at Ron, who had almost begun to cry. Bellysmall beamed at him, showing off a mouthful of pearly-whites.

"Hello, sir! I'm Judith Bellysmall! Welcome to the neighborhood!" she said brightly.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was usually a calm man who could look at any situation imaginable and know how to take care of it.

But now he was in a kerfufflement.

Harry Potter – _HARRY POTTER! _- had gone _MISSING!_ This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't supped to happen at all. Dumbledore took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself.

Harry would be okay. He was Harry. Harry could take care of Harry, right?

…

Right.

* * *

Hermione was telling the burly men where to install the washers and dryers. She tried her best to be as polite as possible to the men, but it was hard when they kept complimenting her butt (indirectly, of course. One or two also said they liked her pants and asked to try them on with her).

Eventually, the butt-compliments and the constant indirect-bed-sharing requests became too much and she slipped upstairs to take a break from it in the bathroom Ron and Harry had installed.

She sighed and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. Perverted men. Completely disgusting. She was only, like, sixteen. They didn't have to-

"You're looking good, little lady," said a chilling voice. Hermione's patience dropped like a rock. How _DARE _they sneak into the bathroom with her. She stood up, whirled around and tried to punch the mysterious speaker, but all she did was knock her fist into the door frame.

"Ow!" she said, cradling her fist in her hand.

"You didn't have to try to punch me, you know," snapped the voice. Hermione spun around and gasped.

She'd seen plenty of ghosts in her time, being a witch and all, but this wasn't an ordinary ghost. He was tall and lean, wore blood-red robes and had slick black hair and forest-green eyes. He was slightly translucent, and floated a few inches off he ground. But unlike ghosts at Hogwarts, he had color.

"Oh, right," he drawled. "Forgive me, madame, I am just sensitive, alright? It's kind of upsetting when someone throws a fist through your head, and-"

"Perverted ghost!" shrieked Hermione, pointing at the ghost with her finger, successfully gabbing it through his nose.

He jerked his head away, insulted. "I object, madame! My name is Leon McNotsqueon de la Vince! I hail from the land of-"

"Perverted ghost! Help me! Harry, Ron, help! He's looking at my chest!" wailed Hermione, rattling the door, but it was stuck.

"Milady, I MUST object to your ridiculous claim!" said Leon McNotsqueon de la Vince, bewildered. "I am simply an angered spirit banished from the underworld to haunt the mortal world by the Satan himself for the rest of eternity! I mean you no harm, really!" His tone was pleading.

"Please," he began to sob, "I just want a friend...!" Hermione paused and gazed at him sympathetically for a moment, before going back to rattling the door and screaming for someone to save her from the so-called _perverted ghost._


	4. Lungs and Hippies

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters © J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Four

Lungs and Hippies

It had finally opened! _Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat _was bound to be a success. Harry hopped up and down in excitement while waiting for someone to enter.

After and hour and a half of hopping and grinning, Harry calmed down enough to sit behind the counter.

"Hello," said a chilly, though silky, voice from behind Harry. Harry's heart leaped in excitement and spun around to greet his first customer ever, hoping that Bellysmall and Bellybig's shouts wouldn't scare him off.

Harry's mouth fell open when he saw Leon McNotsqueon de la Vince floating behind the counter. Leon cleared his throat somewhat nervously.

"Now, I understand my current state may shock you, but-" started Leon, but Harry cut him off.

"You're the perverted ghost Hermione was shrieking about yesterday, aren't you?" Harry asked, his mouth hanging open in awe. Leon looked insulted. "I demand to know why you have deemed me _perverted ghost! _I am nothing of the kind! I was simply trying to make friends, and-"

"HEY, RON!" cried Harry, jerking his head in the direction of the staircase. "THERE'S A GHOST HERE!" There was an outburst of _bloody Hell! _from upstairs and Ron came thumping down the staircase. "Whoa," he said, staring at Leon. "You're _colorful!" _Leon huffed, offended by Ron's very presence.

"Not now, ginger. I do not wish to befriend you, of all people. I simply wish to hold hands and skip through daisies and rainbows and bunnies with Mister Potter and the lovely Miss Granger, who has excellent teeth," huffed Leon.

At that moment (that moment being eight thirty, the fated hour of which Hermione would show up for work), Hermione entered the building, and shrieked bloody murder when she saw Leon.

"It's HIM!" cried Hermione, who had fallen backwards and had a demented look about her. "It's the perverted ghost I was telling you about! I told you he was real! I TOLD you! But did you believe me? Noooo!"

"Calm down, Hermione," said Ron, helping Hermione off the floor. "Mister Leon Mc-what-now de la Whatever just wants to make friends, and-" Ron's words were cut off by Bellysmall bursting into the laundry mat, a dumbbell in hand, and a sheen of sweat over her tanned skin.

"YOU!" she roared, snatching Hermione from Ron's arms and shaking the poor girl mercilessly. "YOU! YOU JOIN ME! YOU JOIN ME _RIGHT NOW!" _Bellysmall stopped shaking Hermione, and gave the witch a hug. "I love your lungs..." said Bellysmall softly.

"I wish I could still hug people," muttered Leon.

Then a tubby (though tall) man with mousy brown, greased-over hair, thick spectacles and pale blue eyes strode into the room, holding a cheeseburger in one hand and a bouquet or flowers in the other.

"Hello," he said, his tone kind. "My name is Julian Bellybig, and I-"

"YOU," snarled Bellysmall, eyes narrowed.

"I wonder if any _real_ customers are going to come in soon," Harry sighed sadly, unimpressed by the scene before him.

Bellybig's eyes narrowed at the sight of Bellysmall. "We meet again," growled Bellybig in a tone of raw loathing. "Have you come to insult... MY CHEESEBURGER?"

Bellysmall laughed in his face. "Ah, if it isn't Julian Bellybig. Thought you'd get to Hermi-what's-her-face before ME, huh, Bellybig?" sneered Bellysmall. Bellybig glared at her.

"She is mine for the taking, Judith. You'd best just give up now," snapped Bellybig.

"If anyone gets her lungs, it is I, fatso," replied Bellysmall.

"Could you _please _tell me what's going on?" whined Hermione.

"Does anyone here want to be my friend?" pleaded Leon.

"ENOUGH!" roared Harry, slamming his palms against the counter, making everyone fall silent. "This is a place of _peace, _and _washing frilly undergarments. _We are not to wage war in these peaceful lands. They have been built by the Gods of peace and love, so I ask you, for the good of the children, _PLEASE STOP ARGUING?"_

It was then that the door opened and the first real customer entered. He had light brown skin, dark-green eyes, his hair was dark brown, and went down to his back. It was clearly unwashed, as it was a mass of dreadlocks on his head. He wore a sand-colored, airy shirt, dark-green overalls, and flip-flops.

In his hands was a basket full or smelly clothes. He smiled at Harry. "Dude, I like, totally heard what you said about this place. Do you use organic detergents? If you do, man, I'm gonna tell my bros about the laundromat. How much does it cost to use this machine?" asked the customer.

Harry told him the price and directed the customer to the only organic detergent he had.

Bellybig and Bellysmall glowered at each other for a time.

"I want the girls lungs," stated Bellybig, taking a bite out of his cheeseburger.

"Her lungs are mine," retorted Bellysmall.

"Like, dude and dudette," said the customer, "everyone's gotta have their own lungs. They gotta breathe, just like you. It isn't fair to take 'em from her. And, like, dude? Is that REAL meat your eating? Like, from a REAL cow?"

Bellybig eyed his cheeseburger. "It's... thirty percent real, to be honest," admitted Bellybig. The customer shook his head. "Dude..." he tutted. "That ain't right. That cow was alive once, y'know? Like, alive and BREATHING, just like you and me and-"

"Can we just put and end to this discussion? It's getting us nowhere!" snapped Hermione. "Mister Bellybig can use his lungs and Miss Bellysmall will use hers. I'll use mine. And the cow will use its. Now can we PLEASE just wash our laundry?

There was a moment of silence. "Like, rock on, chickadee-girl," said the customer (who I'll call Flynn since he's going to become a regular).

* * *

Dumbledore had assigned a search party for Harry.

He simply could NOT put it off any longer. The world needed him! Harry was a _necessity. _He had to stop Voldemort!

If he didn't... Dumbledore didn't want to think about what would happen. Even so, his mind twisted and turned through all of the worst scenarios the human mind was capable of. He stood upright, glaring at the door of his office.

That's it! He'd just have to find Harry himself!


	5. Sorta Customer Sevice

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters © J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Five

Sorta Customer Service

"Professor, I assure you, I have _no_ idea where the boy is," said Snape for what felt like the millionth time. Dumbledore had been bombarding him with unanswerable questions since dawn, and Snape didn't have a clue how to answer them.

The headmaster paced anxiously. "Severus, my dear friend, we must find him! The world is depending on him," Dumbledore said, his eye twitching instead of sparkling.

"That's probably why he left," mumbled Snape.

"What was that, Severus?" asked Dumbledore. Snape sighed.

"The boy has to face the Dark Lord – _the Dark Lord_ – the chances of him dying are much greater than walking away alive and well, his godfather just died... Surly you understand why he left?" Snape said, surprised that Dumbledore could be so dim.

"Oh. Well, if you're so smart, why don't you go find Harry yourself?" said Dumbledore. Snape infamous frown deepened.

"There are times when I truly despise you, headmaster," Snape said, deadpan.

* * *

"Dude, like, my clothes smell radical now," said Flynn, sniffing his freshly-cleaned shirt with a smile.

"I'm sure they do, Mister Flynn," said Hermione as she restocked the soaps and detergents.

"It smells like... like flowers, man," said Flynn. "And they're so, like, soft and nice to touch now. Dude..."

"I'm sure that's right, Mister Flynn," said Hermione absently.

"IT'S A CATASTROPHE!" cried Harry and he stomped down the stairs, a laundry basket upside-down on his head.

Hermione's interest in anything other than laundry detergent spiked. "What is, Harry?" asked Hermione. Harry rushed over to her and began shaking her.

"It's horrible! It's terrible! It's noon and it's ABNORMAL!" Harry cried, his panic obvious.

"What is it, Harry? Tell me!" said Hermione worriedly.

"Shh!" Harry shushed her, pressing his index finger to his lips. Hermione strained her ears.

After a moment of silence, Hermione spoke. "Harry, I don't hear anything," she said.

"Exactly," said Harry.

At that moment, they heard Bellysmall begin to scream, "STUPID OLD FAT MAN! YOU'RE NOT FIT ENOUGH TO LIVE WITHIN EIGHT MILES OF PERFECT-BODIED ME!" She was soon followed by Bellybig's cries of, "STUPID TOOTHPICK! GO TO HADES AND DO THE WORLD A FAVOR! YOU'RE TOO SKINNY TO LIVE WITHIN A HUNDRED FEET OF ME!"

Harry's mood improved remarkably. "Okay, all is well!" he said, and went to empty lint traps.

* * *

"_Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat?" _Snape read, his tone disbelieving. He was standing across the road from the laundromat, wondering if Harry could be there.

No. It was too obvious. If he really wanted to stay hidden, he'd have used a different name, and wouldn't have opened a stinking _laundromat._

And besides, it could not even be Harry in there! _Potter _was an exceptionally common Muggle name, as was _Harry, _so it could really be just about anyone. But... He might as well check it out, just in case.

He chose to ignore the remarkably loud people standing on the roof of their buildings on either side of the laundromat, and entered the building...

Only to be greeted by a strange-looking ghost and a hippie.

"Yo, man! What's up? Hey, get this, man, I got a job here! I'm a spokesperson! I'm not really sure what that is, but..." said the hippie.

"You there! Large bat with the unspeakably greasy mop on his head that he has deemed 'hair'! I demand that we befriend each other at once!" declared the ghost. Snape walked backwards out of the laundromat as quickly as he could, managing to trip over his own feet and fall backwards.

"Excuse me, Leon, Flynn," said a voice that Snape knew all-too-well.

Harry Potter walked through the ghost and pushed the hippie aside, and wound up glaring at Snape. After a second or so, Harry's face broke into a wide grin, and he pretended he didn't know that man.

"Welcome!" Harry said, helping Snape to his feet and dragging him into the laundromat. "Welcome to _Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat! _What can I do for you today?" Snape didn't know why, but Harry then placed a laundry basket upside-down on his head. "We supply our customers with first-rate detergents and service! Oh, Miss _Graaangeeer...?" _Hermione Granger poked her head down the staircase, saw Snape, and danced towards them.

"Hello, Mister Sir! My name is Hermione Granger, and I will show you around!" She grabbed Snape's hand and began dragging him around the laundromat.

"Dude, just look at all these organic detergents," said Flynn, gesturing to Harry's supply of organic detergents (a series deigned specially for Flynn). Snape opened his mouth to say that he was only here to speak with Harry, but Hermione spoke before him.

"You see these machines? Bosch! Bosch washer and dryer set! Like twins, accept they clean instead of destroy!" Hermione said excitedly. Snape began to say that he didn't have any clue what a _Bosch _was, but then Flynn began to speak.

"And like, dude, if you wash your laundry here, you get special earmuffs that not only block out Bellybig and Bellysmall's shouting, but tell you when your laundry is done, too!" said Flynn enthusiastically.

Snape assumed that _Bellybig _and _Bellysmall _where the people who were yelling on top of the buildings outside, and wondered if those screams were normal.

"And if you'll look by the door, you'll notice a fabulous waiting area," Harry said.

"Complete with squishy chairs, a coffee table, magazines, and a tormented spirit banished from the underworld by the Satan himself!" Hermione added with a wink.

"Wanna cuddle?" asked Leon without much enthusiasm.

Snape studied the scene for a while, before shaking his head and walking slowly out of the laundromat. For a while, the only sound there was Bellybig and Bellysmall's deranged screaming.

"That went well," Harry said brightly.


	6. Playing Matchmaker pt1

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters © J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Six

Playing Matchmaker pt1

"Harry," Hermione said, leaning over the counter as Harry fiddled with receipts and ratios and stuff like that.

After a moment of listening to Bellybig and Bellysmall's routine screaming matches, Harry spoke. "Yes, Hermione?" he said, not looking up from his work.

Hermione chewed her lip. "Well, you know that saying? Opposites attract?" asked the bookworm.

"Well, no. Not really, but do continue," said Harry, not flinching when Leon McNotsqueon de la Vince floated through his head, whining about being lonely.

Hermione grunted and glared at him, but continued. "Harry... I get the strangest feeling that Miss Bellysmall and Mister Bellybig have this... thing," Hermione said uncertainly. Harry looked up from his mind-numbingly dull work and tilted his head in confusion.

"Thing?" he repeated. "What kind of thing? Thing thing... Or _Thing _thing?"

"The latter," said Hermione seriously. Harry's face went ever so slightly green.

"Ew. Gross. Disgusting. Sickening. Mortifying. Terrible. Shocking. Why in the name of Merlin's left boot would you give me that, for want of a better word, _horrendous _mental image?" Harry said.

"Opposites attract."

"_WHY?"_

"I don't know anymore!" wailed Hermione.

"Oh! Oh! I know! I know! Pick me! Meee!" whined Leon, bouncing up and down excitedly, his arm held above his head, as if volunteering for something or other.

"Yes?" said Harry and Hermione in unison. "Wait-wait-wait! Let me think... Um..." He pondered the saying for a moment before shrugging and saying innocently, "I have no idea!"

Harry's face reddened somewhat. "Than why did you say you knew?" asked the Boy-Who-Lived. Leon looked ashamed of himself. "I... I was kinda hoping you'd believe me and be my friend..." He looked like a child caught doing something unspeakably naughty.

"_I'LL_ be your friend," said Ron as he entered the laundromat, holding a stack of brand-new, fresh-from-the-store laundry baskets in his arms.

Leon's expression soured considerably. "I do not wish to skip through pink and fluffy meadows with _you,_ bulbous-nosed ginger child," sniffed Leon, disgusted by the very idea of being Ron's buddy. The gingers face soured and he went to put the laundry baskets away.

It was then that Bellysmall burst into the laundromat, shouting an enraged call of "FAT, USELESS OLD MAN!" behind her before breaking into a delighted smile and giving Hermione a hug.

"Hiya, Her-what's-it-again! How have your gorgeous _lungs _been doing?" purred Bellysmall. Hermione chose not to point out that Bellysmall smelled like sweat, organic manure, and a mans armpits, and instead say, "Oh, I'm sure my lungs are doing absolutely fabulous now. How have you been?" Her voice was shaky.

"Me or my lungs?" wondered Bellysmall.

"Either or."

"Uncanny. HEY, HARRY!" cheered Bellysmall as she released Hermione and pulled Harry into a professional headlock. "How's business been going for you? Five people started coming to the gym last Monday, but I guess that doesn't mean much because eleven moved to Mississippi the same day!" She sounded far too happy about this.

"That's... fabulous," said Leon, eying Bellysmall's biceps cautiously. Even though he was dead and he could just float through everything, her extremely large muscles still frightened him. They frightened everyone.

"Anyway," said Bellysmall, "since I'm here, can you keep and eye on my clothes if I throw 'em in a machine? I've got to supervise a particularly violent guy who started working out at the gym recently. He's so violent, I've got to escort him to the there!"

"Sure," said Hermione.

Bellysmall pulled a pile of sweaty clothes out of seemingly nowhere, and started a load of laundry.

Bellysmall waved a goodbye and went to escort the violent guy to the gym. But Hermione noticed that she went in a strange direction. She went... to Bellybig's fast-foot joint!

* * *

"A laundromat?" echoed Dumbledore, quite shocked with the information Snape brought him. The bat-like potions professor sighed inwardly.

"Yes, headmaster. The Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the worlds bloody savior, has given up on the fight with Voldemort and opened a laundromat instead," Snape said for the eighth time since giving Dumbledore this information.

"A... laundromat," Dumbledore said again, still baffled by Harry's chosen line of work.

"Yes, headmaster. A laundromat."

"Why a laundromat?" asked Dumbledore.

"I assure you, headmaster, I have no idea."

Dumbledore shook his head. He had to see this with his own eyes!

* * *

_Bellybig,_

_We've never really spoken, but... But since the second grade I've... I've FELT something. Like a swelling in my chest._

_I have no idea how to explain this in a letter. The way I feel... It cannot be told by simple ink and printer paper._

_Meet me behind the laundromat at midnight tonight, please._

_I beg this of you!_

_Sincerely, Your Secret Admirer_

"I think it's pretty good," said Ron. Harry nodded, a smirk on his face. "I do, too. Quick, let's get this to Leon and have him deliver it!" said Harry.

"How do we find him?" asked Ron worriedly. "He hates my guts, and as long as he knows I was here, he won't come in again until we've sanitized the dust!" That was no lie.

"Shush, Ron. I have a plan," said Harry. He took a deep breath, and bellowed in a volume worthy of both the Belly's, "HEY, LEON McNOTSQUEON DE LA VINCE! I MIGHT WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND!" Leon appeared in less than a second.

"REALLY?" asked Leon.

"Maybe, if you deliver this letter to Julian Bigbelly," said Harry. Leon, being a spirit rather than a ghost, could use his ectoplasm to solidify certain parts of his body. He used this skill to take the letter from Harry, and float at high-speed to Bellybig's.

"Brilliant," said Harry. "Now let's write one for Bellysmall!"


	7. Playing Matchmaker pt2

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters © J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Seven

Playing Matchmaker pt2

_Bellysmall,_

_Judith, oh, Judith, my love. When I see you my heart bursts with lounging. I... I do not know how to say it! You drive me mad with this feeling!_

_It is impossible to spill my heart onto these pages. Impossible, I say! How can one man feel so much? How can one woman make me feel so... so... uncanny?_

_Please, I beg you, meet me behind the laundromat at midnight tonight._

_If you have any kind of heart at all, you will come._

_Yours to the end, Your Secret Admirer_

"I think we're getting better at making fake love letters," Ron said brightly. "I can't wait to tell Mum that I finally found something I'm good at!" Harry beamed. "I think I'm getting better at... making clean... underwear." Harry's face fell as he finished the sentence. He shrugged and began smiling again.

"Anyways, LEON!" Harry screamed. The spirit appeared through a wall, pausing to yank his hand out, because he'd forgotten that it was still affected by ectoplasm.

"Yes, future fiend?" said Leon politely.

"Take this letter to Judith Bellysmall, would you?" Harry said. Leon took a small bow and used his ectoplasm-trick to take the letter. "Of course, future friend," said Leon before leaving Ron and Harry to themselves.

"D'you think it'll work?" asked Ron.

"Not in the least," Harry replied.

* * *

Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, and Mad-Eye Moody stared at the laundromat. Could Harry really be there? When Dumbledore mentioned the laundromat to the Weasley's, they acted like they knew something that they didn't.

Dumbledore chose to believe that Harry was in that laundromat, and, bold as you please, walked through the front door.

Washing machines. Organic laundry detergent. Normal detergent. Laundry baskets. Dryers. And... "Harry, my boy!" Dumbledore said, spotting Harry. Harry visibly cringed when he heard Dumbledore. The headmaster noticed that Harry was looking over some documents that were held in a clipboard.

"Um, hi, professor," said Harry, trying his best not to glare at Dumbledore. "What brings you to my side of town?" Dumbledore noted that Harry didn't sound terribly pleased to see him.

"Harry, my dear boy, I must ask why you-" Dumbledore started, but Mad-Eye cut him off. "Why in the name of Merlin's beard did you start a bloody Muggle clothes-washing business?" demanded Mad-Eye. Harry tilted his head to one side.

"Because Dumbledore didn't want me to?" It sounded like he was guessing.

"Mister Potter-" started Snape, but Harry interrupted.

"Why, hello again, Mister Sir!" Harry leaped to his feet and began telling Snape all about how wonderful his business was. "Bosch, Snape! Bosch!"

"I don't what a _Bosch _is!" snapped Snape, trying to get Harry to leave him be.

McGonagall took one look at Harry's attitude towards the bat-like professor and knew what it was.

Revenge.

Revenge for all of those humiliating and enraging hours spent in detentions and classes. For all the points taken, and for all of the greasy bat's mockery. Ah, vengeance was sweet. And McGonagall also had a score or two to settle...

"Severus, I'm ashamed!" said McGonagall. Snape paused, his already pale face going even whiter. "Pardon?" he said.

McGonagall scowled. "I said, _I'm ashamed! _Honestly, did I teach you nothing while you were a student? _Everyone _knows what a Bosch is! It's the new _in _thing," she said, wondering just what a Bosch was. She assumed it was one of those Muggle clothes-cleaning devices that were scattered about the building.

But until she was sure, she had to mock Severus for a bit longer.

* * *

Harry could barely remember how he managed to get the professors and Mad-Eye to leave. He was sure it had something to do with Dumbledore getting a little freaked out when Harry mentioned having to mess with bank statements (both Muggle and magical), Flynn showing up for work, and Leon popping out of nowhere and asking them if anyone wanted to be his friend.

But now they were gone, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione could see if the saying 'opposites attract' was actually worth more than two goat farts.

They were watching Bellybig through the second-story window, which was open so they could hear, faces obscured by the curtain. Bellybig was anxious, holding a bouquet of roses behind his back as he waited for his so-called _secret admirer._

Soon, after countless, anxious minutes of waiting, Bellysmall walked into view. They could see her shocked expression, even from the second floor.

"What are _you _doing here?" snarled Bellysmall. They could practically hear Bellybig's expression sour. "What are _you _doing here, you lousy excuse of a woman?" replied Bellybig. Harry and Hermione shared a frown. So far, so OH-CRAP.

"Excuse me, fatso," snapped Bellysmall, wagging the fake letter in Bellybig's face, "but _I'm _meeting someone here. Now you shuffle along and I won't have to snap your neck."

"Pardon?" said Bellybig. "But _I'm _the one who's going to be meeting a secret lover here. Now go scurry along and I won't sit on you." Oh, shit.

"Impossible!" growled Bellysmall. "This place can't be _that _popular! It's a stinking _laundromat. _A good laundromat, but a laundromat all the same."

"Excuse me, toothpick," snarled Bellybig. Then something clicked in their minds. Laundromat. Letters. Laundromat. Letters...

"YOU LAUNDROMAT SCUM!" roared the Belly's in unison, elbowing each other when they did.

"HOW DARE YOU TRY TO SET ME UP ON A DATE WITH _JULIAN BELLYBIG!" _

"YOU DARE TRY TO MAKE ME MEET WITH THE DREADED _JUDITH BELLYSMALL!" _

"Oh,well," said Hermione with a shrug. "I suppose they weren't in love after all."

"It doesn't matter," agreed Harry, ignoring the Belly's enraged screams. "At least nothing changed, right?"

…

Right.


	8. Ghost in the Machine

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters © J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Eight

Ghost in the Machine

"I absolutely adore this laundromat already," said Missus Cowsworth, a plump middle-aged woman with frizzy blonde hair.

Harry beamed at her and tried his best not to look smug. Business had been booming for the past week, and Harry could now easily say that he owned the best laundromat in town (even though it was the only laundromat in town).

Missus Cowsworth went off to wash her bedsheets, and Harry went to working with papers and checks and stuff like that.

"Hey, man," said Flynn, holding a pile of laundry in his arms, "I think Leon went missing or something. He hasn't shown up in, like, hours." Harry waved this off halfheartedly.

"This isn't the first time he'd went missing. Poor soul is probably off sulking somewhere," said Harry. Flynn nodded and went to wash his own laundry. Harry continued his work, half-hoping that someone or something would show up and give him en excuse to take a break.

His wish was granted. Missus Cowsworth shrieked bloody murder as she opened up the washing machine. Harry leaped out of his spinning-chair and did a back-flip-cartwheel over the counter, bouncing from machine to machine over to Missus Cowsworth.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry.

"There's a scary man in there!" shrieked Missus Cowsworth, pointing an accusing finger at the washing machine.

It took Harry a moment to process what she'd said. When he did, the Boy-Who-Opened-a-Laundromat laughed, relieved.

"I'm serious!" cried Missus Cowsworth. "There really is a man sitting _INSIDE THAT WASHING MACHINE, AND IT'S SCARING ME!" _For a long moment, the only sound in the laundromat was Harry's soft laughter and the Belly's slightly muffled screaming.

"Oh, Missus Cowsworth," sighed Harry once he was done laughing. He peered into the machine, and saw Leon McNotsqueon de la Vince curled into a ball, pouting. "That's just our personal evil spirit that was banished from Hell by the Satan himself. He's not scary. He's... fluffy. Fluffy like a little bunny-rabbit."

"Not my fault I look like a bunny," mumbled Leon.

"Get out of there," ordered Harry. Leon 'harumphed'. Harry sighed. "_Please _get out of there?"

"No," said Leon.

"Can you _please _tell me what's going on?" whined Missus Cowsworth. Harry nodded.

"So be it, madame. This way, please," Harry said, leading Missus Cowsworth upstairs, where Ron was lounging on the couch and listening to the the wireless radio he'd bought.

"Ron, scoot over so Missus Cowsworth can have a seat," Harry ordered the ginger. Ron, who was never one to try to give himself nasty first impressions, moved away from the couch and continued listening to the Muggle news.

"Well?" asked Missus Cowsworth. "What on Earth was that thing?"

"Well, Missus Cowsworth, I supposed one would call him, _the ghost in the machine," _said Harry.

"That doesn't answer anything at all!"

"Really?" Harry asked. "You want the whole song and dance? Fine. That was Leon McNotsqueon de la Vince. He is a spirit who has been banished from Hell and cursed to haunt the mortal world for the rest of eternity by the Satan himself. Now that may sound terrifying, but I assure you, he is just a fluffy bunny who wishes to make friends."

Missus Cowsworth stared at him. "Why in the name of God was he in a washing machine?" she demanded. Harry sighed.

"He often pouts."

"That doesn't solve anything!"

"I thought it was pretty good."

"Well, I didn't!"

Harry inwardly groaned and shook his head. "Missus Cowsworth, allow me to stupidify the situation: Leon wants to make friends but can't so he's pouting where no one can see him, namely, in a washing machine."

"_Stupidify?" _echoed Missus Cowsworth. "Why? I'm not stupid!"

"But you are acting stupid," offered Ron unhelpfully, but his tone told them he thought otherwise of his uselessness.

Missus Cowsworth looked hurt, and Harry glared at the ginger, who immediately looked ashamed of himself. "What?" he asked innocently.

At that moment, Leon McNotsqueon de la Vince floated out of Ron's radio, for he was done pouting, making Missus Cowsworth shriek fearfully.

"Hi, Leon," Ron and Harry said in perfect unison.

"Hi," drawled Leon, twiddling his fingers in greeting.

It was then that Missus Cowsworth fainted. Ron glared at Leon, who acted like it was not his fault.

"What are you glaring at _me_ for?" demanded Leon.

* * *

"Well?" Mad-Eye barked at Tonks. "What have you found out from watching that bloody laundromat?"

Tonks rolled her eyes at Mad-Eye's impatience. "All I found out was that Harry loves his job too much to give it up," Tonks said irritably. Mad-Eye half-groaned-half-sighed, and began pacing around the Burrow's kitchen. Missus Weasley watched from afar, hoping that the Aurors would be done soon so she could feed her children.

"That's it?" barked Mad-Eye. "That's the only thing you could figure out? The only thing you could hear?"

"Well, maybe I'd have better luck if it weren't for the Belly's!" snapped Tonks. Mad-Eye opened his mouth to continued lecturing Tonks, but he stopped when he realized what she'd said.

"Bellies?"


	9. Bellybig's Big House of Hamburgers

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters © J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Nine

Bellybig's Big House of Hamburgers

Harry made a mental note to never, _ever _take Leon's advice again.

A day off. An ENTIRE twenty-four hours of non-stop NOTHING! Harry was bored. He was twitchy. He was going stir-crazy. He had nothing to _DO! _He whined, sinking further into his spinning chair, staring at the front door and half-hoping (actually, he was praying) that someone would walk up to the door with a basket full of dirty underpants. He noticed that it was raining. Perhaps he could count the raindrops?

"Harry, are you okay? Your face is green." Harry looked up to see Hermione. Instantly, Harry let out a choked sob and leaped up, flung himself over the counter, and grabbed his friend into a rough hug.

"Help me Hermione! I feel useless! There are no customers in here for me to assist and have mild small-talk with! I'm _bored! HELP ME!" _sobbed Harry, face planted in Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione was a bit shaken by the turn of events, and took a moment to register that she should say something soothing to him. "Oh, Harry," she said, returning his hug and patting his unruly hair, "it's okay. Um, we can have a day out, maybe, if it'll cure your boredom?" Harry sniffled and stood properly.

"O-okay. Thanks, Hermione. You're fabulous. Where shall we go?" Harry asked. It was then that Hermione realized that they had never been to Bellybig's fast-food joint.

"Well," she said slowly, "how do you feel about going to Bellybig's place?"

* * *

"I _hate _Pollyjuice," muttered Mad-Eye darkly, slightly jealous that Tonks didn't have to drink that horrible potion to look inconspicuous. She could just go _abracadabra _and _poof! _She was an entirely different person. Mad-Eye had to choke down a murky blue liquid that tasted like overcooked cabbage so he could appear as a grouchy science teacher.

"When do you think they'll come out?" asked Tonks. Mad-Eye grunted, and took a swig of Pollyjuice from a flask, frowning slightly at the taste. At that moment, Harry and Hermione exited the laundromat, walking under a polka-dotted umbrella, and entered a neighboring building that smelled strongly of grease, meat, and teenaged boys. The building had a sign on it that said: _Bellybig's Big House of Hamburgers. _Tonks stared at it.

"We are so not going in there," she stated. Mad-Eye groaned inwardly. It was almost as if they stayed up at night and thought of creative ways to torture him!

* * *

As Hermione and Harry ordered their burgers, they realized that before then, they didn't really even know what the place was called. The fast-food joint smelled sickening inside, and they took a mental note to never, even if it is a life-or-death situation, eat at Bellybig's place after that day.

"Here you go," drowned the droopy-looking blonde teenager who gave them their food. "That will be two pounds exactly." Harry gave him his money and sat as close to the door as possible. The teenagers who worked here had gotten their order wrong, but Harry tried not to think about that. At least he was doing something!

"Well, this... spicy chicken sandwich isn't terribly bad," commented Hermione. "Maybe next time we're here I won't get a stale bun." Harry frowned at the taste of his sandwich, and checked his receipt. Oh dear. They'd given him a veggie burger. He shrugged. Ah well!

Then, with a blast of fresh air, the door opened and two people walked in. One looked to be a grumpy, middle-aged man with bulky spectacles, and the other was a woman with tan skin and white hair who looked to be the same age. The woman gave Harry and Hermione a bright smile, which they returned, but the man grunted at them and went to order something.

"My, he certainly was grumpy," said Hermione, temporarily forgetting about her sandwiches foul taste, and took another bite out of her food.

Harry nodded in a agreement. "Quite," he said, "but the woman seemed nice."

"Mister Harry! And the young Miss Hermi-what!" boomed Bellybig cheerfully. The duo tuned their heads to see Bellybig holding a cheeseburger in his hand, munching on it happily. "Whatever brings you to my humble business? Wait! Don't answer! I don't really want to know! Good to see your putting some meat on your bones, Mister Harry. I mistook you for a walking skeleton when I first saw you. Pack on the pounds, I say, pack on the pounds..."

"Hello, Mister Bellybig," Harry and Hermione said in unison. "Why are you out front?"

"Oh, this and that," said Bellybig, his grin unwavering. "Anyway, enjoying you meal?"

"No," Harry said, but quickly covered it up. "I mean, no, with a sarcastic tone! The food is really great, really."

"Y-yes," Hermione said, forcing herself to take a large bite out of her spicy chicken sandwich. "Mm!" She looked about ready to cry. Harry gave her a sympathetic look and made himself take a big chomp out of his own sandwich. He threw up a little in his mouth after swallowing, but other than that he was fine.

Bellybig grinned at them, not saying anything and not leaving. Hermione and Harry forced themselves to gag down the rest of their sandwiches and make it look like they'd never eaten anything better in their life.

"Well," grinned Bellybig. "Glad you enjoyed your food. You may now leave." Hermione said good-bye and thank-you to Bellybig and went outside. As soon as the doors closed, Harry collapsed on the sidewalk and vomited. Hermione soon copied his actions and retched.

"That was Hell," moaned Hermione as she and Harry half-crawled back to the laundromat.

"I hate day offs, I hate day offs,_ I hate day offs,"_ Harry half-whimpered, half-groaned as he crawled towards his building. "Why do people like days off? Why? They don't even gain money on days off."

While dragging themselves down the street, Harry noticed that Bellysmall was out for her daily hour of speed-running. She had a dumbbell in either hand. Bellysmall took note of their misery and ran up to them.

"Eat at Bellybig's, hm?" she asked sympathetically. Harry moaned and Hermione nodded weakly. "Poor you! The first time I ate at Bellybig's, I had diarrhea for a week! I'll carry you back to the laundromat." Bellysmall heaved Harry and Hermione over her shoulders and jogged to _Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat, _which had to be run by Flynn and Ron alone since Hermione was too sick to get out of bed and Harry had to spend hours every day on the toilet for the next few weeks.

* * *

Tonks and Mad-Eye practically threw themselves out of _Bellybig's Big House of Hamburgers, _gagging and retching all the way. Mad-Eye decided that he'd rather live off Pollyjuice than eat at that restaurant ever again.

"Oh, Merlin's dick," moaned Tonks before vomiting up whatever strange thing she'd eaten in the fast-food joint (the manager hadn't let them leave until they were done eating). Usually Mad-Eye would've told her off for using such language, but let it pass because he too felt as though his stomach was about to explode. He threw up.

"Next time," he said through clenched teeth, "Dumbledore can follow the boy himself!"

* * *

**A.N./ Any ideas for future chapters? Lemme know via reviews!  
**

**WG out  
**


	10. Look I Updated

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters © J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Ten

Look I Updated

After living on his own in the Muggle world for two months, Harry and Ron had caught up with Muggle TV shows and internet memes quite quickly. Their favorite TV show was Power Rangers, obviously.

Who could not love the cheap monster/alien/evil god costumes and the humanoid Skittles who fought toot-and-nail for the good of the Earth? Anyone with a real life, obviously. But then again, Harry and Ron didn't really have a 'proper' life. They were teenaged boys running a laundromat, for Heavens sakes. That just wasn't right.

"Ooh," goggled Ron as he watched the latest episode of Power Rangers on a cheap TV Harry had purchased. "Oh, Harry! Look! Look, look, loo- NO! Ah... Ah! YES! They won, Harry! They won!" Ron was grinning like the world ended yesterday.

Harry who had been staring more at Ron than the TV the ginger was hugging and drooling over. Why? Ron had been changing his clothes and was half-way done when he heard Harry turn on the TV to watch Power Rangers. He had leaped out of his room half-naked and began watching the TV in awe, while Harry drank coffee in his pajamas.

"What in the name of Merlin are you watching?" snapped Hermione as she entered the room. She scowled when she was Ron. "Boys," she muttered, turning her attention back to Harry.

"Starting late today, are we?" inquired the Muggle-Born, eying Harry's light blue bathrobe with yellow duckies on it. Harry shrugged.

"Actually, I'm not starting late. You're just starting early," Harry said. Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but checked her watch and face-palmed when she realized she'd arrived at the laundromat at six thirty in the morning.

"Madame Poofy!" cried Leon, floating through a wall and smiling at Hermione. He began calling her 'Poofy' recently, because of her hair. Hermione hadn't bothered to tell him not to. She knew it'd be no use. "How unspeakably _giddy _I am to see you the morning! Have you reconsidered you're decision _not _to be my friend?" Harry took a large gulp of coffee.

"Hello, Leon. Who are you going to horrify with your choice of pouting locations today?" asked Hermione.

"I suppose whoever comes into the laundromat. Have a good day, Madame Poofy," Leon said before disappearing. There was a moment of silence in which Hermione stared at the wall, which Leon had floated through.

"I wish he wouldn't call me 'Madame Poofy'," sighed Hermione, before descending down the staircase and into the laundromat.

* * *

Dumbledore, who had decided to take matters into his own hands after Mad-Eye Moody screamed at him to find and collect Harry himself, now stood outside _Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat, _trying hard to make himself open the door.

The main thing that was keeping him from opening the door was some kind of dreading. Snape had shuddered when Dumbledore asked what happened, and whispered 'Customer service' at him. Mad-Eye and Tonks had began laughing nervously, looking about the office with shifting eyes before claiming that they 'didn't want to talk about it'.

Dumbledore could only imagine the horrors that lay behind those doors.

The elderly headmasters thoughts were cut off by an enraged scream from somewhere above head. "USELESS, SKINNY BITCH! GAIN SOME WEIGHT, WHY DON'T YA? NO ONE CARES TO SEE YOUR RIBCAGE, YOU KNOW!" The scream was shortly followed by: "FAT OLD MAN! IT LOOKS LIKE YOU SHOVED A _MATTRESS _IN YOUR SHIRT! NO, _TWO _MATTRESS'! YOU SHOULD LOSE SOME WEIGHT, MAYBE THEN YOU WON'T HAVE TO REPLACE YOUR STAIRS EVERY TIME YOU WALK ON THEM!

Dumbledore figured he could escape the noise is he went inside, so, with a face of a warrior, he steeled his nerves, and went into the laundromat.

* * *

Harry, still in his ducky bathrobe, skipped downstairs, for Bellybig and Bellysmall's screams were slightly quieter down low.

Unfortunately, it was that exact moment Dumbledore entered _Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat._

"Old geezer- I mean, Professor Dumbledore!" Harry yelped, surprised. Dumbledore also looked surprised, mostly because of Harry's bathrobe.

"Rubber duckies- I mean, Harry, my boy! I've found you!" Dumbledore said in a similar manner.

"Well, no shit, Sherlock. Do get the Hell out of here, go, go! Solve some kind of murder with Watson, why don't ya?" snapped Harry, glaring daggers at the old man. Dumbledore chose not to ask who 'Watson' was and why Harry called him 'Sherlock', and instead to try an manipulate him into coming back to Hogwarts.

"Harry, you are not safe here!" Dumbledore said.

"Sure I am. I've been here for almost a month, and no Death Eater had seen the place!" argued Harry.

* * *

Little the the Boy-Who-Lived know, his statement wasn't exactly true, for at that very moment, a Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, apparated back to his manor to inform Voldemort of his discovery.

"A laundromat?" echoed Voldemort, making sure he hadn't misheard his Death Eater. Lucius, on one knee, gulped as quietly as possible, and confirmed, "Yes, my Lord. The boy has started a business, _Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat."_ Voldemort stared at him.

"Bellatrix," summoned Voldemort. The witch practically ran to her Lord's feet.

"My Lord, what do you require?" gushed Bellatrix.

"Go, round up the Death Eaters," ordered Voldemort.

"All of them, my Lord?" gasped Lucius.

"All of them," confirmed Voldemort, turning his attention back to Bellatrix. "If some are on raids, call off the raid. If some are taking a day off, tell them they need to work overtime. If some are just downright stupid and refuse to obey my words through you, Crucio them and say 'from our Lord!'. I don't care what it takes. Round up every. Single. One. Tell them to meet at Malfoy Manor. We attack _Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat _at noon, and destroy the boy and his pathetic friends!"


	11. O Kindly Dark Lord of Gossip

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters © J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Eleven

O Kindly Dark Lord of Gossip

**A.N./ This chapter is longer than the others. Hope that makes up for the slow update!  
**

The Death Eaters, cleverly disguised as Muggle circus performers, were scattered around the laundromat, far enough to not look terribly suspicious, but close enough to spy on the building.

Lucius and Bellatrix were standing near enough to each other to get into a heated argument about who Voldemort liked better.

"Your so _ridiculous, _Lucius," hissed Bellatrix with a glare. Lucius rolled his eyes and twirled his pimp cane (which he liked too much to leave at his manor).

"You say _I'm _ridiculous? Look at you! You've got... frizzy hair, and – and you're dressed like a – a _circus clown!" _Lucius retorted.

"You're dressed as a clown too, you peacock of a man," snapped Bellatrix. "And anyway, how I'm dressed is of little importance; The Dark Lord still favors _me _over _you. _So HA!" Lucius ground his aristocrat teeth together.

"_Peacock _of a man, Bella? Is that _really _the best you can do?"

"Better than anything _you _could come up with," mumbled Bellatrix. Then, quite suddenly, the two argumentative Death Eaters felt a searing pain on their left forearms.

"The signal!" seethed Bellatrix. "Let's go, flamboyant pixie-thing!" Lucius started to follow the witch as she half-pranced towards the laundromat, but stopped short when he heard what she said.

"Flamboyant pixie-thing? Honestly, Bellatrix..." he mumbled, as he began walking again.

* * *

Dumbledore had not left the laundromat yet. Instead he sat – almost _sulkily –_ in the waiting area as Harry strode this way and that, tending to his daily duties of running the laundromat.

It looks quite dull, thought Dumbledore as he watched Harry scribble something or other down on his notepad after digging through a box labeled 'DETERGENTS' in bold print. What kind of pleasure could be possibly gain from owning a laundromat that he couldn't obtain at Hogwarts?

What Dumbledore didn't know was that Harry gained a form of pleasure that he, indeed, could not get a Hogwarts. It was the pleasure of not being looked over twice. The pleasure of feeling as if he was right where he was supposed to be. The pleasure of not being _gawked _at. People, Muggles especially, rarely considered someone who owned a laundromat, with a name as dull as 'Harry Potter', to be an interesting person with any kind of peculiar background. Harry loved _not _being the center of attention.

At that moment, in which Dumbledore pondered whether he could leave for a few minutes to drop by the candy store he'd spotted on his way to _Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat, _the doors burst open and seven people strode in.

Harry lifted his head to greet them with a smile, but saw instantly that they were just Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort disguised as clowns and some kind of circus midget- wait a second.

A smirk tried to make its way to Harry's mouth, but it was stopped by the Boy-Who-Lived's pure desire to humiliate the man who murdered his parents.

Oh, yes. Torturing Voldemort would supply him with _much _pleasure.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore seemed to recognize Voldemort and his followers as well.

"Hello, good men, and lovely madame," Harry said cheerfully, bowing his head to Voldemort, the Death Eaters, and Bellatrix when he said 'lovely madame'. "How may I be of assistance today?"

"Harry-" began Dumbledore worriedly, but Harry waved a hand at him to be silent.

"Welcome of _Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat. _I am, of course, Harry Potter. What can I do for you? We are having the most _tremendous _sale later! It starts at three o'clock! A strange time, but that's only because so few peeps drop by during that time of the afternoon. It gets quiet, you know?" Harry rambled.

Lucius and Bellatrix shared a look. When Voldemort craned his neck to look at two of his most loyal followers, he was quite awed that they dared shrug innocently (and somewhat confusedly) at him with an 'I have no idea' expression plastered onto their pale faces. Slightly angered, Voldemort turned back to his still-rambling nemesis. He suddenly realized that the boy probably hadn't recognized him. A smirk reached his lips.

"O grand washer of garments," said Voldemort grandly, "I have simply popped in to see what all of the kind townsfolk have been speaking of! They refer to this laundromat with great words!"

"Is that true, O kind customer with pale skin? Why, allow me to demonstrate the extent of my businesses potential, O fabulous window-shopper of many lemmings!" Harry replied in a similar manner.

The Death Eaters resisted the urge to hex Harry upon referring to them as 'lemmings', but fought instinct.

"Truly, O fabulous businessman of righteous cleanliness?" said Voldemort.

"Truly, O awesome gossiper amongst townsfolk!" Harry spun on his heel and strutted towards the staircase. When he reached it, he turned to face Voldemort and said, "Do wait here for me, O kindhearted man of gossip?"

Voldemort took a small bow. "Of course, superior fellow of hygiene!"

Harry, in turn, bowed his head and slipped up the stairs. As soon as Voldemort was sure the boy was out of earshot, and sent a venomous glare towards Dumbledore, who returned the negative expression with a pleasant smile.

"You do not utter a word of me and Potter's little exchange to anyone outside the seven of us, understand?" growled Voldemort to his Death Eaters, who all returned his order with mutters of "Yes, my Lord," and "Absolutely, my Lord." Voldemort turned back to Dumbledore.

"_O fabulous businessman of righteous hygiene?" _Dumbledore said, awed that the Dark Lord dared sink to such ridiculous levels. "My, my."

At that moment, Harry came back down with Ron and Hermione following. They were all smartly dressed in fine suits and top hats, and each carried an expensive pimp cane (which much resembled Lucius's). Harry cleared his throat.

"O kindly window-shopper amongst gossipers," Harry said grandly, "allow me to demonstrate the true extent of me and my comrades – the lovely Miss Granger and kindly young Mister Weasley – with a _song!" _Voldemort's brow furrowed. What did the boy mean, song?

Leon floated out of a washing machine and began making odd noises with his mouth that the wizards assumed was supposed to be music. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all began doing different dances that didn't go with the 'music' at all. Hermione began preforming an elegant ballet dance, Ron was river dancing, and Harry was simply spinning in circles and clapping his hands. Voldemort stared at them until their dances were done. It seemed to take centuries, but they got there, once the Belly's started screaming at each other, for they had finished their lunches.

"Now then, goodbye," said Harry cheerfully. Voldemort blinked.

"Goodbye? O master of victorious laundromats, whatever do you mean?" Voldemort asked.

"What I mean, O kindhearted questioner, is that the song and dance me and my associates just preformed is the extent of our laundromats services. Now goodbye, have a _smashing _afternoon, kindly sir!" Harry explained.

* * *

How Harry managed to get rid of Voldemort _and _Dumbledore seemed to be like a memory or dream the Boy-Who-Lived just couldn't hold on to. It was all a blur, but he remembered something about calling Lucius 'O most beautiful and charming of maidens'. Apparently that was unsettling enough to make the Death Eater leave on the spot. Harry's 'flattering' words soon became enough to befuddle all the Death Eaters, Voldemort, and Dumbledore enough for the magical folk to leave.

Now Harry was laying back on the sofa on the second floor, watching Ron as the helpless ginger snorted and chuckled at the television, ignoring the Belly's demented screaming.

"That was a strange thing for you to do, Harry," commented Hermione as she sat beside Harry, a mug of cocoa in her hands.

"What was?" asked Harry.

"The whole, 'song-and-dance' thing that you came up with to frighten Voldemort away. It wasn't very much like something I'd expect you to do," Hermione said, sipping her drink.

"Oh," Harry said, "that. Well, I suppose that's because you and Ron have only ever seen my Gryffindor side." Hermione raised a curious eyebrow at her friend, but he didn't bother elaborating, so she continued sipping her cocoa.

* * *

"He called you a _WHAT?" _Missus Weasley gasped as Dumbledore told the Order (somewhat hesitantly) of the events he'd experienced in the laundromat.

"Yes, Molly. Those were his exact words," sighed Dumbledore, looking troubled.

"_O master of pimp-mania? _He said – he said – _pimp-mania?" _Mad-Eye Moody said disbelievingly. "But I always thought you were homosexu-"

"Shut up, Alastor," snapped Lupin. "I'm sure there's a logical-"

"But he said, _pimp-mani-" _started Tonks, but Lupin cut her off.

"For why he wanted Dumbledore out so bad, the silly dance, and the reason he started a laundromat in the first place. Not the whole... yeah," Said Lupin.

Meanwhile, Snape was trying desperately not to burst into laughter. It was difficult to at least resist smirking, so it looked like he was shaking and snarling (like a dog) at his fellow Order members.

"Oh. So, like, what do we do, Dumbledore?" asked Tonks, feeling rather a fool. Dumbledore sighed.

"I have no idea, Nymphadora, my dear," he said, eyes cast downwards.

**A.N./ The way Harry and Voldemort were talking to each other was taken from 'Castle in the Air' by Diana Wynne Jones. It's the sequel to Howl's Moving Castle (huggles to all who knew that HMC was a book before a film).**

**WG out**


	12. Rick Nordman Wants To Buy

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters © J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Twelve

Rick Nordman Wants To Buy

"Albus, forgive me for pointing out the flaws in your plan, but honestly, somebody has to do it," said Snape, his tone dripping sarcasm. "Seriously, how will bribing the boy with permission to do all the laundry in Hogwarts make him return?"

Dumbledore looked a bit offended. "I think it's a marvelous idea," he said in a pathetic attempt to defend himself.

"It's still stupid," snapped Missus Weasley, going as far as to glare at the headmaster.

"But it may work," Dumbledore said. "All of my stupid ideas work." Snape had a sudden coughing fit, but everybody was sure they heard him say 'Gilderoy Lockhart'. Dumbledore ignored this.

"And anyway, who's to say that it won't?" Dumbledore continued.

"Me," said Moody, Snape, Tonks, and Missus Weasley all at the same time.

"Since when did the Order meetings turn into 'Gang-up on Albus Time'?" muttered the headmaster.

* * *

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were going about their daily business in the laundromat. Flynn was too busy preaching about animal rights to come to the laundromat, and Leon was pouting about no one taking him up on his 'bestest buds' offer.

It was a perfectly normal and overall dull day, but you know what 'they' say: Calm before the storm. In the case, 'the storm' was the front door bursting open and a tall man with dark, greased-over hair, sunglasses, and a fine suit barged into the laundromat.

"You there," her said with the smallest Brooklyn accent, pointing at Harry, who had jumped when he entered, "are you the owner of this place?" Harry nodded, smiling warmly at the man, who strode over to him, ignoring the very shocked Ron and Hermione as he passed.

"The name's Rick Nordman, kid. I come from the family-run appliance company, Nordman Cleaners," explained Rick as he shook Harry's hand.

"That's nice," said Harry. "But I'm afraid I've never heard of this 'Nordman Cleaners'. Care to explain?"

"Sure, sure. Whatever. We ain't exactly big-time, kid," said Rick, taking off his sunglasses. "Nordman had a rocky start back in the day, and few people notice the place. We manufacture all sorts of household supplies; washing machines, showers, Hell, even toilets. Unfortunately, we've only just been scraping by and we need something for more money."

There was a moment of silence, in which Harry stared, almost shocked, at Rick. "You want me to sell my laundromat, don't you?" Harry asked, his eyes glinting the tiniest bit, but if it was out of offense, anger, or worry, it as hard to tell. Rick nodded.

"Your business it a hit. Dorks and dweebs from all over the place have moved into this pathetic excuse of a town just to use your laundromat, because they've been hearing about how 'magical' it is. They say the name's quite fitting," Rick ranted. Harry saw Hermione's face redden when Rick called her hometown pathetic, but she kept her mouth shut.

Harry couldn't resist a glare. "What makes you think I'll sell?" he asked.

"Cash," said Rick as if it were obvious. "That's why most people sell, am I right? It's either money or disliking towards their business, every time."

"What if I like my laundromat?" Harry challenged.

"Then I've got some convincing to do, eh, kid?" Rick replied. Harry's cheeks reddened and he stood from her seat behind the counter, chest puffed out.

"Listen here, Mister Nordman," began Harry, "No amount of money, bribery, promises, or threats will make me sell my business. I love my laundromat. My fellow business persons-" Harry's speech was interrupted by the Belly's screaming, "-are unique, I have my own personal tormented spirit that was banished from the afterlife by the Satan himself, and I'm sponsored by a group of hippies called 'The Peace-Keepers', whose motto is 'Spread the Effin' Love, Save Our World, Be Happy', and what's more, I get to get back at people who've ticked me off in the past. Why would I ever sell?"

Hermione was teary-eyed, Ron looked extremely proud of his friend, and Leon, who floated through the wall half-way through Harry's speech, looked flattered about being listed as one of the reasons why Harry wouldn't sell.

Rick, on the other hand, was thoroughly and royally pissed off by Harry's love for his business, and gabbed a finger at him.

"I'll find a price!" he said warningly. "And when I do, God help ya! You're gonna be so tempted, you won't think _twice _about your little hippies or your ghost, ya hear!? I WILL GET YOU!" With that, Rick stormed away. Harry could almost see the storm cloud over his head as he stomped away from Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat.

* * *

_Dear Harry,_

_The magical wold is like a headless chicken without you, Harry! You MUST return to us! Voldemort has become completely merciless after your stunt at the laundromat! You must return. Now._

_Harry, my boy, usually I'm not one to resort to threats, but if you do not come back willingly, I will hunt you down, drug you, and drag your unconscious body back where it belongs. Your home is in ruins, Harry. You HAVE to come back._

_Yours, Albus Dumbledore_

_P.S. Molly says hi._

_P.P.S. Professor Snape has asked me to remind you to put some kind of effort into your potions homework (for some reason, he still wants to grade it)._

_P.P.P.S. Alastor reminds you to watch for hagravens (he's sure they're dangerous, but I've never heard of them. He said they have claws, feathers, and shoot ice and fire at you)._

_P.P.P.S. (part two) Tonks agrees with the whole hagraven thing (but seriously, what ARE hagravens?)._

_Final thoughts: I would like to know which air-freshener you use. The laundromat smelled fabulous when I was there._

As Dumbledore tied the letter to the barn owls leg, he couldn't help but wonder, for the hundredth time since the Order meeting, what in Merlin's nickers a hagraven was.


	13. All You Can Eat Burger Challenge

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters (c) J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Thirteen

All You Can Eat Burger Challenge

**A.N./ Holy mother of apples and oranges! I am SO SO SO sorry for slacking off with HPML, peeps and peepettes!**

In the next few days, Rick Nordman had made eighteen more offers for _Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat,_ Bellybig and Bellysmall had made up approximately two dozen new insults for each other, and now, Snape and Dumbledore had teamed up (Snape against his will) to try to sway Harry to quit his work at the laundromat and come to Hogwarts.

"Ready, Severus?" asked Dumbledore, looking over to his colleague.

Snape grumbled darkly at Dumbledore, but nodded in confirmation nonetheless.

The duo took a deep breath, and Dumbledore opened the door. A small bell jingled, informing the laundromat occupants that two Order members had just entered _Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat._

Dumbledore saw Harry immediately. The boy was in his usual spot behind the counter, but instead of staring at a clip-board or chatting with a customer, he was reading a book that appeared to be called '_The Fellowship of the Ring'._

Dumbledore shuddered. He'd received that book countless time on birthdays and Christmas. Usually with a note deeming him 'Gandalf'.

"Potter?" inquired Snape, a skeptical eyebrow cocked.

Harry memorized his page number and turned his gaze to the headmaster and Snape. "Professor," nodded Harry. "Mister Sir! What a lovely sur-"

And that was when Bellybig and Bellysmall burst into the laundromat, hissing uncouth names at each other.

"HARRY!" boomed Bellybig. "Judith called me an 'obese scoundrel'! I'm not an obese scoundrel, am I?"

Harry looked Bellybig up and down. "Scoundrel? No. I don't know what to saw about obese, though," Harry told him.

"HARRY!" shrieked Bellysmall in a manner that reminded Snape very much of Petunia Evans... Dursley, now. "Julian called me a 'cadaverous bitch who needs to get of her cadaverous high-horse'! I'm not a cadaverous bitch who needs to get off her cadaverous high-horse, am I?"

Harry sighed. "Cadaverous? Maybe. A little. If not for all the muscle. Bitch who needs to get off her cadaverous high-horse?" Harry paused, considering. "I won't say."

The who Belly's nodded slowly, before going back to screaming ridiculous insults at each other.

Harry tutted once they were gone. "Ron and Hermione are civil compared to those two."

Snape and Dumbledore stared blankly at Harry, before Leon McNotsqueon de la Vince floated through their heads, whining something along the lines of 'oh my God, I am so lonely', thus shocking them back to their senses.

"Harry, my dear boy, we are in desperate need of you!" said Dumbledore. "YOU are the only one who can defeat Voldemort..."

"And I can't give you detention if you're not a Hogwarts student," mumbled Snape, more to himself than Harry.

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed. "I will consider it," said Harry. "But under one condition..."

"ANYTHING!" wailed Dumbledore.

* * *

Bellybig grinned at Dumbledore and Snape, than turning his cheerful expression to Ron, Hermione, and Harry, whom all wore smirks.

They were in _Bellybig's Big House of Hamburgers,_ and Harry's one condition was that Dumbledore and Snape enter the fast-food joints 'All You Can Eat Burger Challenge'. The point of it was to wolf down as many burgers as you could before the hour was out.

_Merlin's beard,_ thought Harry as two employees plopped several trays of food down in front of Dumbledore and Snape, _I'm becoming a bloody sadist._

Nonetheless, Harry signaled for Bellybig to start the clock. "GO!" boomed Bellybig cheerfully, and stared intently at Dumbledore and Snape.

Unnerved by Bellybig but desperate to have their Gryffindor Golden Boy back, the two steeled their nerves – and their stomachs – and began to eat...

* * *

Snape retched into the toilet of _Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat._ Dumbledore had to go to St. Mungo's in order to take care of the damage he'd taken in _Bellybig's Big House of Hamburgers._

Harry entered the bathroom, holding a pink bottle labeled 'Pepto-Bismol'. Snape was unfamiliar with the potion, but drank what Harry gave him anyway. "Have you-" Snape paused to convulse at the toilet, "-reconsidered yet?" He ate those terrible burgers in hope that Harry would return to Hogwarts – he damn well was going to make sure it wasn't all for naught.

"Hmm," Harry said, tapping his chin and obviously faking deep thought. "No!" he finally said, a bit too brightly. "Sorry – but I enjoy my business too well. Seriously. You wizards are almost as persistent at Mister Nordman!"

Snape didn't know who this 'Mister Nordman' was, but he was beyond caring. Harry left the bathroom, and Snape vomited into the toilet again. He sobbed.

"I feel fabulous," mumbled Harry triumphantly, still within hearing distance. He paused as realization washed over him. "Wow. I _have_ become a ruddy sadist." Harry took a moment to absorb this, staring blankly at the ceiling. He shrugged and strode back downstairs to talk to Flynn about appearing in the infomercial he was planning.

* * *

Meanwhile, Voldemort was planning his next move.

"We shall strike at midnight," declared Voldemort. "And kill them all swiftly. No mocking, no jeering, and certainly no hesitation."

"_No mocking?"_ gasped the Death Eaters, devastated.

"YES!" boomed Voldemort.

"_No jeering?"_ they parroted, horrified.

"Yes," repeated Voldemort, with a slight frown.

"_No hesitation?"_

"NO HESITATION! That _is_ within your mental and physical capabilities, is it not?" asked Voldemort.

The Death Eaters shuffled a bit, most looking downwards. Voldemort sighed.

"Fine. You may mock them for a little bit – don't jeer for too long either. I suppose you can make one or two petty jabs if you don't mock or jeer," Voldemort said. The cheers of the Death Eaters filled the hall, and Voldemort threw his head back and cackled like a madman.

One Death Eater piped up, "CAN WE HUMILIATE THEM FIRST?"

The hall was silenced and Voldemort glared like a displeased mother at the follower whom had spoken. "_Crucio,"_ he said, as if he were stating that the sky was blue.


	14. To All The Readers:

**A Note To The Readers**

* * *

**So sorry. But I have discontinued Harry Potter's Magical Laundromat. I've just lost all interest in this story and can't think of anything to make happen.**

**But it is up for adoption. PM me if you're interested.**


End file.
